


what's in a name?

by mompasaurus



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Childhood, Gen, Growing Up Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Trans Dexter Grif, Trans Dick Simmons, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-08 17:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11086599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mompasaurus/pseuds/mompasaurus
Summary: “Only one more?” He couldn’t ignore the way Simmons face dropped when he realized they would have to go home soon. “You sure we can’t do, uh, two more?”Grif hated the way Simmons was nervously eyeing the pile of clothes he’d changed out of when he got here. Hated that he even had to do that. Hated that they both lived under such awful circumstances.But that’s the way it was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> man it's been a while since i've written an rvb fic.
> 
> but, i was talking on twitter about how in a modern setting, grif and simmons have known each other since they were very young. they stick up for each other since their home lives are shit and they don't have many other friends. grif is also the only one that knows simmons is trans for a real long time. and of course i had to write about it. 
> 
> i read over this a few times but i also wrote it in like an hour so sorry if it's like, weird. also, they're both about 10-11 years old in this.

“Grif, what did I tell you about making up words? You can’t do that!”

 

“Uh, atigi  _ is _ a word, Simmons. It’s a coat that the Inuits wear.”

 

“Wh-- How do you know that!? Did you look it up?”

 

“Doesn’t matter, I got the points, didn’t I?” 

 

Grif watched with a smug grin on his face as his friend exasperatedly tried to come up with any sort of reason as to why  _ atigi  _ wasn’t allowed in the game of Scrabble. The mulch underneath him dug into his palms as he sat back, examining the game board in front of him. Their games were always close, but it looked like Grif was going to win this time. 

 

It didn’t matter anyway, because Simmons was just going to ask for a rematch until he won. As much as he loved playing Scrabble with Simmons underneath the playground, where nobody would find them, it was going to get dark soon, and Grif had to get home and make sure Kai was okay.

 

It wasn’t as if the two of them playing Scrabble was a rare occurrence. Almost every day during summer break, they would decide on a board game, or card game, or whatever, and meet at the playground early in the afternoon. Grif usually brought food, sometimes sandwiches and chips, sometimes just snack foods. There was an area that went underneath the playground and looked like a cave, though it was made of plastic. That’s where they would stay until early evening, when Grif’s mom left home and he was left to watch over his little sister. 

 

Grif looked up at Simmons, who looked utterly distressed at losing the game, and sighed. “Hey, Simmons. We’ve got time for one more game if you wanna redeem yourself.”

 

“Only one more?” He couldn’t ignore the way Simmons face dropped when he realized they would have to go home soon. “You sure we can’t do, uh, two more?”

 

Grif hated the way Simmons was nervously eyeing the pile of clothes he’d changed out of when he got here. Hated that he even had to do that. Hated that they both lived under such awful circumstances.

 

But that’s the way it was.

 

“Sorry dude. I have to take care of Kai. I…” He trailed off, taking a handful of mulch and letting it slide back onto the ground. “You know I’d stay longer if I could.”

 

Simmons sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest, letting his head rest on them. His voice had gone softer. “I know. It’s not your fault, it’s…” 

 

Grif nodded. “Yeah, I know. But hey, if we mope around much longer we won’t have time for another game.” He took one hand and swept the letters off of the Scrabble board, sending them scattered among the mulch.

 

“Don’t you mean mope  _ about _ ?” A smile crept onto Simmons’ face, one that Grif wished he saw more often. 

 

He stuck his tongue out at his friend, anyway. “Oh, shut up, nerd.”

 

Simmons won the next game, his winning word being  _ safekeeping. _

 

* * *

 

 

As the two walked home, Simmons was tense, knuckles white as he gripped the Scrabble box. He had to change back into the blouse and skirt his dad had made him wear, he couldn’t be seen dressing like…

 

“Hey, why’s your dad pick your clothes out for you anyway? We’re almost in 5th grade, I think you can dress yourself.” Grif complained, carrying the shirt and sweatpants he’d let Simmons wear. His clothes were much too big for Simmons, but it made him happy, so whatever. 

 

Simmons let out a shaky breath, turning his head away. “I don’t know, Grif, I.. Can we not talk about this right now?”

 

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

 

They walked in silence for a few moments before Simmons spoke again. “Just, I don’t wanna upset him, you know? I.. I want him to be proud of me, not ashamed of me.”

 

Grif stopped walking, some sort of awful feeling churning in his gut. Anger, maybe, but it wasn’t towards Simmons. “He’s a piece of shit, Simmons. You don’t need to do that.”

 

“Well, I can’t exactly say no to him!” Simmons snapped, glaring at Grif with an expression he couldn’t identify. Angry, sad, upset. Tired. Grif didn’t say anything, just let Simmons recollect himself before they started walking again.

 

The air around them was awkward now, and Grif was desperate to get rid of it. “Um, so… Have you thought about any names for yourself?”

 

Simmons was silent for a while, and Grif almost thought he was being ignored, but eventually he spoke. “Yeah.. I have, actually.”

 

“Lay it on me.”

 

“...Richard.”

 

“You mean like that fitness guy?” Grif couldn’t help but smirk at that.

 

“Oh shut up! I heard it on TV and I just, I liked it.” A small flush crept onto Simmons’ face. “It kinda rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Rrrrichard.”

 

“Okay, so. Richard. Do you want me to call you that from now on?”

 

Simmons thought about it for a minute. “I, uh, I don’t care if you keep calling me Simmons, since we’re both kinda used to it now. But maybe Richard could be shortened to something…”

 

“What, like Rich? Richie? Richie Rich?”

 

“No, I feel like it’d be worse to be associated with that bad movie about a rich white kid.”

 

“He had a roller coaster in his backyard, Simmons. A roller coaster.”

 

“What about Dick?”

 

There was a pause. “What about it?”

 

“No, not--” Simmons groaned in frustration. “I mean for my name!”

 

“Ohhh, right.” Grif chuckled to himself, clearly proud of himself for that joke. “I mean, if you like it then I don’t care. But some jerks might make fun of you for it.”

 

“No they won’t, because I’m not going to tell anyone else. Besides,” He looked over at Grif, grinning. “It kinda compensates, doesn’t it?”

 

Grif actually laughed that time, his laughter echoing throughout the neighborhood. “If you want it to, man!” He glanced up at the street lights above, and realized just how dark it had gotten. “Jeez. I gotta go, dude.”

 

Simmons’ face fell again, less noticeable this time, but Grif still saw it. Before Grif got too far ahead of him, he called out. “Hey, Grif!”

 

Grif stopped and spun around, watching as Simmons walked up to him. “Yeah, what’s up?”

 

“Uh.. I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for everything you’ve done.” Simmons’ face was definitely red now, and his eyes were glued to the ground. 

 

Grif shrugged in a way that Simmons knew he was touched, he was just trying not to show it. “Oh, it’s no big deal. Somebody’s gotta be there for you, and I guess that’s gonna be me.”

 

Simmons’ demeanor relaxed and he felt something warm in his chest, having this conversation with Grif. Of course, Grif was the only person who even knew he was trans, but the idea that someone in his horrible life supported him, it… It made him feel happy beyond comprehension. But that was too cheesy to say out loud. 

 

“Yeah.. Well, see ya, Grif.” He gave a shy wave at the boy in front of him, who then took off running again. Nobody ever saw Grif run except for Simmons, and even then it was only for his sister.

 

“Next time, I’m bringing Monopoly!” Grif shouted, nearly a block away, and suddenly the touching moment was over.

 

“No way! You always cheat!” Simmons yelled as he took off after his friend, Scrabble box rattling in his hands. “And you can’t make your own million dollar bills this time!”

~ 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, surprise? i'm writing more of this au because i love it so much?
> 
> i have a lot of things in mind for this au as it turns out, and rather than make a separate fic for each i'm just gonna post them here. they aren't really following a specific storyline or plot, just grif and simmons growing up and being trans together. what's better than this
> 
> oh! i also drew a couple things for this au, u can check them out here. the first one is an illustration of the first chapter:  
> http://tosakasan.tumblr.com/post/161456151410/art-from-my-own-damn-fic-whats-in-a-name-which  
> http://tosakasan.tumblr.com/post/162036264835/a-friend-on-twitter-requested-childhood-au
> 
> ok that's it please enjoy! this chapter is about how they met!

Simmons, before he started going by his last name, didn’t have many friends. None at all, actually, but the bullies who teased him relentlessly every day were his friends if his dad asked. He never liked lying to his dad, but he seemed to be doing it more and more recently. 

 

So, on account of having nobody to keep him company, Simmons typically spent his recess underneath a tree with a book of some sort. Sometimes it was a sci-fi novel, or a comic book, or a magazine on the latest technology. The recess aids would occasionally try and get Simmons to go play with a nice group of girls, and the thought of being associated with girls made him feel sick to his stomach. 

 

One time, a girl with pigtailed hair had come up to him and asked if he wanted to play with her and her friends. Simmons had sputtered a polite  _ no _ , and buried his face in his book with trembling limbs as soon as she left. It wasn’t anything against the girl, it was just that he couldn’t-- he wasn’t--

 

He wasn’t a girl. It was weird, his dad had said when he told him. He couldn’t be a boy, because he was born as a  _ girl.  _

 

It was weird, and so Simmons never brought it up again, not with his dad or anyone else. He didn’t need one more reason to be teased. So he was perfectly content with sitting alone at lunch, at recess, in class, and never talking to anyone unless they talked to him first. 

 

The school counselor called him down to her office one day, and Simmons had sat down on the big comfy couch and twiddled with his fingers as they spoke.

 

“Your teacher says you’ve been acting very distant,” The counselor said. “You don’t talk to anyone in your class or play with anyone at recess. Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, I just like being alone,” Simmons lied, and his chest stung. He really didn’t like being alone, and he wished he had somebody to talk to, somebody he could share everything with. But he couldn’t say that, so he went with the next best thing. “But, uh.. sometimes these boys make fun of me.”

 

The counselor gave Simmons a concerned look. “Oh, that’s not good! What do they do to you?”

 

“Um, they just shove me sometimes and call me names,” Simmons said, not making eye contact. “...and they say I look like a boy.”

 

“Can you tell me their names? I’ll talk to them and make sure they don’t bully you anymore.” The counselor took out a post-it note and a pen, looking at Simmons expectantly. 

 

So Simmons told her the boys’ names, but if the bruises he received during recess the next day were any indication, the bullying didn’t stop. His dad told him those boys should know better than to hit a girl, and that maybe they just had a crush on Simmons, and Simmons thought it would’ve been better to have not told anyone in the first place.

 

A few days after, Simmons sat under his tree at recess, engrossed in a book about cyborgs and space pirates. He had just gotten to the part where one of the space pirates quits his squad when a nearby commotion snapped him back to reality. He looked around cautiously, hoping his bullies weren’t out for him again.

 

Instead, he saw his bullies haggling some other kid near the jungle gym. The new victim was short and chubby, with dark, curly hair and brown skin. He’d seen the kid around school before, but didn’t know his name. Simmons noticed he was holding a small bag of chips and holding them protectively to his chest.

 

“You’re so lazy, fattie. I never see you do anything!” One of the boys said, giving the victim a shove on the shoulder. 

 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run! Are you so fat you can’t even move your legs?” Another said. The pack of boys was drawing closer to the victim now.

 

“I  _ can, _ I just don’t want to,” The victim said as if it were no big deal, but Simmons could tell from his body language that he was nervous.

 

The group of boys all looked at each other and grinned, before the one in front spoke. “We’ll give you ten seconds to run to the other end of the school yard.”

 

Simmons looked to the other side of the school yard where a fence was, and they were quite literally at the beginning since the other side of the fence was behind Simmons. He didn’t even think  _ he  _ could run that in ten seconds. 

 

But the victim just shrugged and nodded. “Okay, whatever.”

 

The boys looked at each other, a bit perplexed that there wasn’t much of a fight, but they gave the victim another shove. “Then get going, tubby. Your time starts when you go.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Simmons wasn’t sure what he was expecting from this guy, but it sure wasn’t a casual walk that didn’t even come close to qualifying as running. The boys watched for a few seconds, waiting for him to pick up the pace or something, but when he didn’t they yelled, “Hey! You’re supposed to be running!”

 

“Sorry guys, this is as fast as I can go.”

 

When the boys started sprinting after him, he looked behind himself and began running as well, but only made it a few feet before being shoved to the ground by the boy in front. He practically faceplanted into the grass, making Simmons flinch.

 

Simmons couldn’t hear their conversation anymore, but after standing around and tormenting the boy on the ground a little more, the bullies left. He waited to see if the boy was alright, but he didn’t get up. He didn’t get knocked out, did he? Or.. or killed?

 

He tried to reason with himself that he shouldn’t even care about that kid, for all Simmons knew he could just be another person that would make fun of him. But at the time… he wanted to make sure he wasn’t like, dead.

 

So, Simmons closed his book and slowly began making his way to the boy, who still had not moved from the ground. Once he was close enough, he saw that the boy’s eyes were open and his nose was bleeding.

 

“Hey… are you okay?” Simmons asked quietly.

 

“No! You aren’t gonna make me into Dexter soup! Not today!” The boy yelled, louder than Simmons had anticipated, and he flinched.

 

“S-Shut up, hey, I’m not one of those bullies!” He waved his hands and crouched so that the boy could see his face. 

 

The boy glanced up at Simmons. “Oh. You’re not.”

 

“Yeah, I’m not.” The two sat for a moment, both expecting the other to say something, and Simmons felt himself sweating. “Um.. Can you.. get up?”

 

“Yeah, I just don’t want to.”

 

“Well, the bell is going to ring soon, so you  _ have  _ to get up then.” Simmons sat on the ground now, and we was glad he wasn’t wearing a skirt today. 

 

The boy shrugged. “What if I don’t  _ want  _ to? What if I just lay here all day. That’d be okay.”

 

“No, it wouldn’t!” Simmons shook his head. “You’d get in trouble, maybe even suspended!”

 

“Meh. At least I wouldn’t have to be here,” The boy glanced at Simmons again. “But why do you care? I never see you talk to anybody. You’re always alone.”

 

“Well, I…” Simmons trailed off, not sure if he should be honest or not. “Those boys tease me too, and I just thought…”

“We could become friends because we’re both bullied, or something? That’s kinda dumb,” The boy rolled over onto his back and rested his hands on his stomach. “But it makes sense, I guess.”

 

“You think so…?” Simmons felt something in twist in his stomach, but it was in excitement unlike the other times. He may finally be making a friend! The logical part of his brain knew that not everybody who was nice to him wanted to be his friend, but the other parts were clinging onto this opportunity like a kitten stuck in a tree.

 

The boy just shrugged. “Yeah, why not? You don’t have any friends, and neither do I. Nobody wants to play with the fat kid!”

 

Despite saying it so nonchalantly, Simmons still felt bad for him. “\That’s not fair! It shouldn’t matter how you look, y-you know?” Now that this conversation was starting to mean something, he began to sweat. “Um, your name’s Dexter, right…?”

 

“Yeah, that’s me. Dexter Grif.” He gave the slightest of grins at Simmons. “What’s your name?”

 

Simmons suddenly felt stiff and frozen, not prepared for being asked his own name. He didn’t want to use his birth name, he couldn’t-- He didn’t have another name for himself! “M.. My name? Uh, it’s, uh…”

 

“What, did you forget your own name?”

 

“I, um..” As if an angel of fate were watching over Simmons, the bell rang, and he quickly stood up and ran as fast as he could for the school doors. “I gotta go bye!”

 

He dealt with it like he dealt with much of his problems those days- avoiding it altogether. 

 

School let out a few hours later, and Simmons stayed in class as he usually did to work on his homework. He didn’t like to do his homework at home, and part of him didn’t even  _ want  _ to go home. 

 

His teacher didn’t mind, thankfully; she sat at her desk and graded papers while Simmons quietly scribbled the answers onto his long division worksheet. 

 

Simmons was a slow worker- an unfortunate tradeoff for being smart, he supposed- but he usually went home after about 45 minutes when he either finished his work or his teacher kicked him out. Today he managed to finish early, and waved goodbye to his teacher as he left the school. 

 

The incident from recess was still on Simmons’ mind, no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. He held his space pirate book close to his chest as he walked, wishing he hadn’t messed up his one chance at making friends. That Dexter kid probably thought he was a weirdo now! 

 

Simmons took his time walking home, trudging along the sidewalk and watching his feet as he did so. His dad would be upset if he got home too late, but if he waited he wouldn’t have to deal with it yet. But if he was out too late, his dad would be even more upset. It was a never-ending cycle of pro and con. It was silly, he didn’t hate his dad, he knew his dad only wanted what was best for him, but… 

 

It wasn’t what Simmons thought was best for himself. 

 

“Hey!” A voice tore Simmons away from his thoughts, and he turned around to see a familiar face running towards him. 

  
Dexter Grif stopped a few feet in front of Simmons, panting and sweating as if he were about to fall over. “Holy.. cow, dude… You walk fast.”

 

“Dexter…? What are you doing here?” Did this kid wait for him to get out of school and follow him? 

 

Dexter didn’t talk again until he seemed to collect himself. “Oh, I live down the street, that way,” he pointed a thumb behind his shoulder. “I saw you walk by and thought I’d.. come say hi? I wasn’t following you or nothin’, not for that long at least.”

 

The explanation calmed Simmons’ nerves a little, but he was still confused. “You.. wanted to talk to me, even after I ran off like that at recess?”

 

Now Dexter looked.. embarrassed? He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and looked at the ground “I dunno, I thought I said something bad or something, so, uh.. sorry if I did.”

 

“Oh, no, it wasn’t you!” Simmons waved his hands apologetically, earning a curious glance from Dexter. “It’s just… I don’t like my name very much, so I didn’t wanna say it.”

 

“What’s wrong with your name? I’m sure it’s fine. I’m Hawaiian and people think our names are weird all the time.”

 

Simmons felt his anxiety creeping back up. “Well, no, It’s not a bad name, just, not for me, because…” He swallowed and fiddled with his fingers, knowing that this would make or break his friendship with this kid. Probably break. Definitely break. “Because it’s a girl name, and I’m not a girl.”

 

But to his surprise, Dexter’s face lit up in realization and he smiled wide. “Oh! You’re just like me, then!”

 

“What?” 

“Listen, I never felt like a girl when I was little. But then I realized, it’s cus I’m not a girl, I’m a boy! Duh!” Dexter explained matter-of-factly.

 

Simmons was dumbstruck. “That’s… that’s exactly how I feel. I’ve never met someone-- someone else like me.”

 

“Me either! This is awesome!” Dexter kept smiling, and he walked a bit closer to Simmons. “So, do you have another name you’d prefer?”

 

Simmons instinctively took a step back, though he was smiling a little too. “Oh no, um, I haven’t really thought about it, nobody’s ever asked.”

 

“That’s cool. I named myself Dexter, ‘cus I’m ambidextrous! Get it?” Dexter raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in demonstration. “And you know the show  _ Dexter’s Lab _ about the little science guy? I thought he was cool too.”

 

Simmons laughed, and wow, it felt good? He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed talking with someone like this. “Well, uh, my last name is Simmons, so you can call me that if you want.” But he suddenly remembered why he was on the sidewalk, holding his books in the first place and felt anxiety shoot through him once him. “I- I have to go home or else my dad will get mad.”

 

“Oh, okay. I can go with you.” Dexter said, following Simmons as he began walking again. “So, I’m guessing your parents don’t know? About you being a boy?”

 

“Well, I told my dad but.. um, he didn’t take it very well.” Simmons said, gripping tighter onto his books. “He said I was being ridiculous.”

 

Dexter scoffed. “Psh.  _ He’s _ ridiculous! My mom doesn’t care,” He said, then added much quieter, “But, she doesn’t really care much about what I do.”

 

“Well, you’re lucky. My dad doesn’t let me do anything I want,” Simmons complained with a grumble in his voice. “But… I don’t want to disappoint him. So I deal with it, I guess.”

 

“That’s stupid.”

 

The bluntness of his comment made Simmons feel a little guilty, but it’s not like he was wrong. “Yeah, I guess it kind of is.”

 

Simmons soon saw his house in the distance, and turned again to face Dexter. “My dad probably wouldn’t like me hanging out with a boy-” Dexter grinned upon being called a boy. “-so you should probably go now.”

 

Dexter nodded and waved. “Oh, uh, okay. I’ll see you at school, Simmons!” 

Simmons shyly smiled and waved back. “Yeah, see you, Dexter.” 

 

As Simmons approached the door of his house, his heart was pounding and filled with the same excitement from earlier. His father only mildly scolded him for coming home late, but Simmons didn’t even care. Even as he ate dinner, took his shower, and laid in bed unable to fall asleep, the feeling never left.

 

Though they were different, Simmons could feel something special about Dexter. Maybe it was just his mind getting ahead of himself and taking it out of proportion, but Simmons didn’t worry about it, not this time. Because for the first time in a long time, maybe in his whole life, he didn’t feel so alone. 

 

~

**Author's Note:**

>  _atigi_ is a word i found while looking for obscure words that count in scrabble. grif totally knows a bunch of them and uses them to his advantage.
> 
> you can find me on twitter @umbrastaffs or on tumblr @tosakasan. thanks for reading!


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